She shrugged her shift off her shoulders and shucked it into a pile on the floor. She smoothed her hands across the barely noticeable bump of her belly. A baby. A shiver of excitement tingled through her. The newest MacKenna hadn’t been planned, but Trulie had to admit, life now seemed much brighter with Gray at her side and a baby on the way. She would never let on to Granny but coming back to the past was the best thing they had ever done.
Trulie dipped a toe in the steaming water. Perfect. The temperature was just below scalding. She eased into the tub, leaned back against the towel padding one side of the elongated barrel, and exhaled as she closed her eyes. “Coira also told me she doesn’t like the priest. Called him a beady-eyed little hypocrite ... or something to that effect. I think she said part of it in Gaelic.”
“About that...” Granny uncorked a dark bottle on the stool beside the tub and poured a thin stream of fragrant oil into the bathwater. Lavender-scented steam rose from the iridescent shimmers of the perfumed liquid spreading across the surface.
“Spit it out, Granny.” Trulie cracked open an eyelid. She didn’t like the look on Granny’s face. Unpleasant news was logjammed behind Granny’s tight-lipped expression. Trulie would bet her favorite pair of jeans on it.
“There will be no priest,” Granny said with an exasperated flip of her hands. She trailed her fingers atop the water and shook her head. “Gray wasn’t comfortable with all the questions the pompous little man was asking, so...” Her voice trailed off and she turned back to the stool and grabbed a chunk of rose-colored soap and a folded rag.
“So ... what?” Trulie straightened in the tub. No priest meant no wedding. Now, what were they going to do?
“So ... Gray told him to leave.” Granny soused the rag and soap in the water, then rubbed the two together until a sweet-smelling lather flowed over her hands and dripped down into the tub.
“Gray couldn’t just put up with the man for one more day? He couldn’t wait until after the ceremony to tell the man to leave?” Trulie slid back down in the tub, held her breath, then completely submerged beneath the surface. It really wasn’t necessary for Granny to answer those questions. Trulie knew the answers well enough without even talking to Gray. Once the man set his mind to something, the devil himself couldn’t force him to change. But that didn’t change the fact that they now had no one to perform the marriage ceremony. It could take forever to get another priest this far up into the Highlands—especially this late in the summer. What about all the food? What about all those people who had come from miles away? What were they going to do now?
Trulie broke up through the surface with a sputtering breath. “So, what are we going to do now? Just have a big party?” If it was up to her, she would sneak out the back gate, find a place to hide, and once everyone left, she and Gray could just live together. They had already signed the marriage contract. Who needed a wedding? An involuntary twitch shook her. Lordy, she hated crowds.
“Tamhas is going to perform the ceremony.” Pride brightened Granny’s face like a ray of sunshine. “The dais has already been prepared at the front of the hall. The maids and I covered it with heather and ivy. It looks lovely, if I do say so myself.”
“Tamhas is not a priest.” Trulie plucked the soapy rag from Granny’s extended hand and scrubbed it down one arm. Her stomach did a nervous somersault at the very notion of standing up in front of the largest number of people she had seen since coming to Scotland. Great hall with Gray had been nothing compared to the teeming mass of curious villagers who had descended upon the keep.
“Tamhas doesn’t have to be a priest.” Granny shook her head, leaned both elbows against the edge of the barrel, and folded her hands. “According to the laws of the land and this time, as long as you and Gray state you are man and wife to each other, you have a marriage—whether you have a priest or not. If you make your oath in front of Gray’s clan, the marriage will be cemented by all the witnesses.”
Trulie slid down until her chin rested just above the fragrant surface of the water. She pulled in a deep breath, savoring the calming scent of lavender infusing the steam. She studied her bright-red toes peeping out of the water at the other end of the tub. Her black mood shifted at least three shades lighter as a plan unfolded in her mind.
“Trulie Elizabeth.” Granny’s voice took on a sternwhat the devil are you up to nowtone.
“What?” Trulie raised a leg above the surface of the water and watched the steam rise from her skin.
“Don’twhatme, gal. I don’t like that look in your eye. What are you plotting?”
Trulie took the soap and lathered a foaming path of creamy bubbles down her leg. Drawing a finger through the suds, she smiled at the faint layer of hair coating her shin. That was one good thing about the past; she no longer had to shave her legs.
“Trulie!” Granny thumped the side of the tub. “Out with it. What are you plotting?”
“I want to marry Gray in private.” There. She had said it out loud. Trulie rose from the water and held out a hand for the folded linen piled on another stool. Suddenly, the overly warm water was making her stomach roll. “You know how I hate crowds. I can’t stand the idea of standing up in front of half of Scotland like a sheep about to be slaughtered.”
Granny’s mouth pulled down into a disapproving frown. She shook out the cloth and scrubbed it across Trulie’s shoulders as she stepped from the tub. “You can’t do that. Gray is the MacKenna chief. He has responsibilities to his people.”
Trulie gathered the linen under her arms and clutched it to her chest. Her mood shifted back to darkness as she padded barefoot across the stones, then plopped down on the cushioned bench beside the hearth. “What about Gray’s responsibilities to me?”
“Ye will always be first in my heart and mind,mo chridhe.Why would ye doubt that?”
“Get out of here, Gray!” Granny moved in front of Gray and tried in vain to push him back out the door. “It is bad luck for you to see Trulie before the wedding. Get out of here. Go find someplace else to be.”
Gray settled his feet wider apart and smiled down at Granny as though she were a yapping puppy. “I will not be going anywhere until I find what is troubling my love.”
Trulie’s stomach shifted with a sickening flop. She swallowed hard against the urge to gag. The dried crust of bread she had forced down earlier was getting dangerously close to coming back out. She closed her eyes, pressed both hands against her temples, and eased in a deep breath. If she got through this day without heaving, it would be a miracle. And wouldn’t that be a fine way to impress Gray’s clan? Trulie clamped her mouth shut tighter at the mental image of blowing chunks all over Gray as they stood together saying their vows. Lordy, she just couldn’t do this.
Gray moved quickly across the room and knelt in front of her. “What is it? Are ye unwell?” He squeezed her hands while his worried gaze searched her face.
She shot Granny a warning glare over the top of his head. She wet her lips and took in another shaking breath. “I think it’s just a combination of hormones and phobias.” She swallowed hard and forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Hormones and pho-bee-uz?” Gray sounded out the strange word as though it felt odd on his tongue. An enlightened look brightened his face. “The child? I have heard tell how women are often ill when they get with child.”
She couldn’t help but smile at Gray’s concern. In an instant, he had forgotten about the celebration he had been excited about for days. All that mattered was her. Guilt butted in and stirred her conscience. She couldn’t be selfish and dodge the crowd. This ceremony meant a lot to Gray. Hormones and phobias be damned. She would get through this day one way or another—for him.
* * *
